


Once Upon A Dream

by Phantom_Serenity



Category: Loki - Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Pining, Romance, Smut, Sweet Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-17 04:24:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2296526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantom_Serenity/pseuds/Phantom_Serenity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki's seen her in dreams all his life. Been in love with her all his life. But what if his dream isn't what she appears to be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I have this theory that Tom Hiddleston plays Loki as if he's had this unrequited thing for Sif. And this sprang from that little plot bunny.

He woke slowly from the dream. The same dream, with some variations with age, that had haunted him since he was a child. Chasing a specter with flowing dark hair, always chasing. Only a few times had Loki dreamed that he caught up with the woman, wrapping his arms around her as he never would in reality, kissing her, feeling her melt in his embrace. Their bodies tumbling into his bed, where he could finally study her lithe body, finding every spot that made her moan, scream in pleasure. And then, laying together, completely sated at last. 

But he woke alone, always alone. Growling to himself, he tried to will away his arousal, his need that pulsed through him. But as always, it was no use. Desire ran rampant, as it had since he was a young man, first realizing what men and women could mean to each other. He had dreamed of her when they were children, all playing together. But those were innocent imaginings, like playing house. When desire first came into play, the urgency of his need shocked him. But soon he realized he couldn't dampen his need with any woman. He tried, oh he had tried, hoping to end the embarrassing crush by giving attention and affection elsewhere. But all it had done was made him see how inferior all other women were to her. And then he came to understand that it was more than a crush, a child's liking. He was irrevocably and horribly in love with her. He only wanted her in his arms, in his bed. In his life and heart. 

With a snort of disgust toward himself, Loki wrapped his hand around his length, moaning softly as he pictured her there. First her hand closing around his, slow strokes to arouse him more. Then she would press her lips to his as she let him enter her. Always so imposing in public, in his imagination she was willing to let him take control of her. But only in a tender way, the only way he could be with her. His eyes fluttered closed as he pictured hers doing so, her teeth worrying her lip as she rode him. Yes, he would submit only to her as well. He would be hers, if she only said the word. 

He thought of his hands cupping her breasts while she whimpered above him, playing her as he would any instrument so finely tuned. Watching as her face contorted with pleasure, for her would not be satisfied until she completely found her pleasure. As his stroking went faster, he moaned, imagining her clenching around him, crying out his name. Her nails scratching down his chest as she came, the red marks staying there for days as a reminder of their love. 

The visual was too much. He grunted as his release jetted out over his cool skin, intensifying with each spurt. With one last moan, he whispered the name that haunted him: "Sif... my lady Sif..."


	2. Chapter 2

As usual, the morning after one of his dreams left Loki irritable and guarded. The fact that he was pining after a woman who only had eyes for his adopted brother didn't give him any help in his attitude toward Thor. That oaf never appreciated Sif, not fully. The woman would have laid down her life for a loving word for him, and he never looked at her with anything but a warrior's eye. So as she longed for Thor, Loki longed for her. 

He sat in the throne room, rubbing his temples. If there was a way... a way to make her see him. But Sif only saw him as Thor's younger brother, and more than that, the one who tried to take control when Thor was banished. He would never be able to make her truly care for him. Or could he? What if he could get her to see that he was superior in every way to Thor? Then he would truly have everything he had ever dreamed of. The throne that was rightfully his, and his dark-haired love by his side. 

As the day wore on, he thought of calling her to him. Of course he had told everyone a very plausible lie as to why he had seemingly returned to Asgard after Thor voluntarily left to live on Midgard with his mortal lover. And why Odin had fallen ill "before" his return. Of course it had to appear that Odin was ill and gone before Loki returned. He simply had stayed in the form of the guard till a few months after Odin's passing. And if anyone thought there was just too much coincidence, well, no one dared to speak of it to him. 

The new king of Asgard... Loki couldn't help chuckling to himself every time he thought of it. At last Asgard had a proper king. He would be the king Asgard deserved. He knew how to be a good king. He even knew how to be a good man, given the right circumstances. And that dolt Thor had made sure everyone knew how he had sacrificed himself to help. Of course, Loki's reappearance had made the sacrifice not quite so heroic, but it gave him a bit of a laugh. Sif had studied him, as if waiting for him to crack. But he never cracked. Watching her, he could feel his frozen heart cracking, aching for her. Oh how he wanted to watch her find her pleasure with him. In the dream, he never got to see her face as they made love. Only the foggy image of her in his arms. But it was enough, enough to make him want more, always hoping for more. 

Lifting his head to a servant waiting, he called out "Bring the Lady Sif to me." Perhaps now would be the time to begin wooing her. Thor was gone to Midgard, to his lover. She would know now that he was not coming to her anytime soon. Now was his chance with her, as it was his chance with the throne. 

When she was brought to him, he marveled at the sight of her beauty. Not clad in her armor today, no, she was before him as a woman, the real Lady Sif. The silver gown clung to her body in a way that only fed his imaginings, but the tight line of her jaw showed that she was not in the mood for more tender thoughts. "You sent for me, my King?" she asked stiffly. 

Oh he admired her spirit, her fire. That had always been there, since they were small children all playing together. And now, he knew that she would make a fitting partner for him. Her spirit matched with his now serene attitude would make them a wonderful match. A king and queen suitable for Asgard. "Yes, I did, Lady Sif," he purred. "Please, come and sit." He gestured to the throne next to his, and he saw as understanding lit her face. "If it pleases you, my King," she ground out, "I would much prefer to speak to you from down here." 

There it was again. Her eyes gleamed as she steadily watched him, waiting for him to speak. "My lady, we have known each other for some time," he murmured. "I think we can dispense with at least a little of the formality. Would you stay so formal if Thor had taken the throne?" Sif's eyes darkened, and he wondered if she felt hurt at the way Thor had left them all behind for a mortal woman. The woman that the Queen had died protecting. Sif had taken her death particularly hard, for she had looked up to her, admired her. And yes, thought of her as her possible mother-in-law. "If Thor had become king," she answered, "I would have of course given him the respect he deserved as our ruler." 

His grin turned teasing, devious. The smile she would have been all too familiar with. "Respect he deserved as ruler... and your husband?" he questioned. She clenched her jaw, nostrils flaring. "If he had asked me to be his wife, yes," she spat out. He could see her broken heart clearly. Poor woman, how foolish it was that she had pinned her hopes on Thor. "It is his loss that he did not," he intoned, truly meaning those words. "He would have been lucky to have you by his side." 

The shock she felt at his words showed plainly. She must have expected him to mock her more. But he could not truly mock unrequited love, not when the focus of his unrequited love stood there, in pain, hurt by that stupid half wit Odin had favored. "I mean that, truly," he continued. "Thor would have done better by choosing you, Lady Sif." After a moment, she bowed her head, murmuring a soft thanks to him. He gave her a warm smile before inclining his head to her. "You may go, Lady Sif," he said at last. When she walked away, he allowed himself the immense pleasure of studying her form. She was gorgeous, and dangerous. And one day he would make her his. Totally his. 

As he formed a steeple with his fingers, he stayed focused on thoughts of his Lady, his dream. The smile stayed on his lips the rest of the day. This could work... he would make this work.


	3. Chapter 3

He stayed seated there most of the day, pleased with himself and the way the conversation with Sif had gone. Perhaps she would lower her defenses in time. Loki knew he had surprised her with his gentle words, instead of mocking her completely. This would have to be a slow burning plan. He couldn't afford to act too quickly, she would deny him forcefully. Worse, she would mock him, hate him. He could take her disdain that she showed now, but never her hate. Perhaps inviting her to share dinner with him would be next. But not tonight. He should wait a day or two... yes. He had learned patience at last. 

Movement in the corner of his eye shocked him. The dark haired figure... had Sif returned? Turning his head, he sighed, realizing no, not Sif. A servant bringing him his meal. His eyes slanted toward her, and he waved his hand, wanting her to leave the tray and go on. But he studied her a moment. She was shorter than his Lady love, with darker eyes, somewhere between brown and black. The simple dress she wore showed more curves than Sif had. He couldn't help appreciating her form. "What's your name?" he asked suddenly. 

The girl stopped, freezing in a half bow after leaving his tray. "My name, your Highness?" she stammered, eyes wide. "My name is Ingrid, your Highness." Hearing this made Loki smile. Her name meant beautiful goddess, and he could see how it would be possible. Blinking rapidly, he gave a curt nod and murmured "Thank you, Ingrid." She curtsied once more and left, still seemingly in shock at his question. 

It shouldn't be that fun confusing and startling people, but sometimes Loki just couldn't help himself. It was in his nature to do so. With a sad smile, he thought of how he could always make his mother laugh with his antics. She encouraged his playfulness, his humor. She always had understood his mischievous side, and he always expected that she had one herself. But as Queen, she remained dignified, calm. A lovely woman, who he missed every day. 

Shaking himself from his reverie, he began eating. He still needed to refine his plans for Sif, figure out how best to present himself as her suitor. He could just demand, force her to be his queen. But that wouldn't do, not with her. He wanted her to come to him willingly, to be ready to love him, not just by his side by force. He needed that warm light in her eyes to shine on him, only him. 

He groaned when he realized that now, thinking these thoughts while eating, he had aroused himself. Completely catching himself off guard, he thought of calling back that girl... Ingrid. Burying himself inside her, feeling those delicious curves, that could satisfy his immediate need. But no, he wants more. With a wry smile he acknowledges that he's needing more than the satisfaction of release. If that was all he needed, he wouldn't have felt so grouchy after this morning. No, Loki knew he needed much more. He wants to be loved. The one thing that he mourns more than the loss of Frigga was the unconditional love she showed him. If just one person could love him that much... 

But it couldn't be just any person. No, it must come from the woman he loves. 

The rest of the day passed with typical business at hand. He handled it tiredly, almost bored with the matters. He was too focused on thoughts of Sif, of love. Trying to decide the best way to woo her, to make her understand his love for her was almost exhausting. But he wanted to do this right. This had to happen just so. He knew far too well what came of going about things the most expedient way. For a matter of love, however, this had to be handled delicately. 

Deciding to have dinner in his chambers, he left and walked through the halls. He stopped at a balcony, looking out over Asgard. How lovely it was here. Sometimes at night he woke shaking, dreaming of being left in the cold in the Jotun world. A warm breeze danced over his skin, the fading sunlight warming him gently. Lifting his head, he smiled, eyes closing in simple appreciation. He wondered what Sif would think of him, standing here like this. Would she think him mad or weak? Or would this perhaps change her view of him as well? His features softened as he pictured them standing together on the balcony outside his bedchambers, his arms around her... perhaps her stomach round and swelling with their child. Oh, why did his mind travel there? Now all he could picture was Sif carrying his child. Oh she would be lovely, so perfect. He wanted that with her. He wanted to find his happiness with the woman he had longed for. 

With a sigh, he turned, walking away from the open doors and continuing down the hall. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he never noticed the person watching from behind a pillar. Dark eyes that were far too understanding. 

He laid on his bed, the bed that felt far too large some nights. Looking up at the ceiling, he wondered if perhaps he was setting himself up for more pain, more heartache. But he had to try. What if this could work? If he could do this, it would make up for so much. He could have love, and a life, a real life with someone who loved him for who he was. The breeze came in from the window here as well, taking him back to his daydream. Now he saw them lying together, tangled and loose limbed after love making, the sun streaming in over their bodies. Sif's long dark hair spread beneath her, a soft smile on her lips as she trailed her hand over his body. Her whispering soft words of love to him. Oh this almost hurt more than his ever present dream. 

A knock sounded at the door, and he groaned, rubbing his slender fingers over his face. "Enter," he called out, surprised to see Ingrid holding his dinner tray. "Well, hello Ingrid," he murmured, sitting up. She gave him a shy smile, stepping closer till he stood, holding his hand up. "No, I'll not eat on my bed. I'll have my dinner over here." He gestured toward a table near the open windows. With a soft nod, she answered "Of course, my King." Setting the tray on the table, she turned, eyes still downcast. "Will there be anything else, sir?" she murmured. He gave her a smile that was almost kind, shaking his head. She was a lovely girl, with a musical lilt to her voice. If he was still a young prince, he might have used her to sate his needs. But things were different now. "No, Ingrid. You may go," he told her, but couldn't resist watching her walk away, just as he had with Sif earlier. 

As he ate, he looked outside. It would be a beautiful sunset. He decided that he could spend this evening reading in peace, trying to distract himself a bit even as part of his mind worked out his need, his desire for the Lady Sif. The Lady Sif would be his.


	4. Chapter 4

A week had passed. A week that Loki spent in careful planning. Everything seemed to be going according his desires. Sif had agreed to have dinner with him that very night, throwing him into a flurry of emotion as he considered the opportunity. She had actually seemed... happy to share a meal with him. Was she? Had he actually started down the right path with her? Heart flipping, he hoped so. His dearest wish, his dream was within his grasp. 

Carefully he dressed himself for dinner, trying to find the appropriate tone for this occasion. He neither wanted it to seem too formal, but yet he wanted to ensure that Sif remembered him as the king, a powerful and strong ruler. She would appreciate that, would respect that. Power and strength, tempered with kindness and tenderness, that seemed to be what Sif would respond to. He could give that to her, could show her what type of ruler and lover he can be for her. And then, she would be his. He knew she could be his. 

Looking at his reflection, his lips curved into a smile. Yes, wearing his older clothing, from before his world came crashing down around him with the realization of his true heritage. Of what he was meant to be. But that was all behind him now, would be forgotten. Perhaps his attire would remind Sif of fond memories, good times together. It could help break down the walls that he was trying to scale, the guarded heart he desired. 

The meal was to be shared in his sitting room. He did not trust himself to have Lady Sif so near his bed if they ate in his private chambers. It would be far too tempting to just tumble with her onto the soft mattress, to try and awaken her desire far too soon. She would deny him now, it wasn't the time. But soon, soon he could attempt this. 

If he tried straightening his tunic anymore his trembling hands might rend the fabric. Clasping his hands together, he watched as Ingrid and another servant bustled about, setting things in their perfect places for the meal. They were efficient and talented, taking his commands and turning the room into an intimate dining place without intimacy being the first thought. It seemed warm, inviting, but not like the setting of seduction. That, he smirked, would come another time. As they finished, he murmured a bland thanks to them. They scurried away, Ingrid throwing one last gaze at him as she left. Loki smirked and winked at her, making her blush. He shook his head and chuckled, wondering if he should pry into her mind, finding out what she was thinking. Perhaps another time, he mused. Tonight there were more important things to focus on. 

When Lady Sif arrived, his breath caught in his chest. She wore a gown of breathtaking gold, a new one he believed. It brought out her eyes to a degree that he had never seen before. Was she always this luminous? A soft smile was on her lips, and her eyes no longer held that cold wariness. They were warm bright lights that shone for him. Smiling at her, he held out his hand, and she curtsied before taking it. He led her to the sitting area arranged, helping her into her chair. 

Dinner went even more smoothly than he had hoped. The conversation was light and happy, filled with wit, even happy memories. Watching as the candlelight danced over her fair skin, Loki wished for nothing more than to hold her, kiss her. She seemed even more beautiful tonight. More than that, she was relaxed, enjoying herself. When she laughed, it sounded like happy music, bells ringing out. It made him laugh with her, true mirth surrounding them. 

As their meal ended, he was tempted to invite her to stay longer, for more conversation. But again, he knew that timing was key. Escorting her to the door, he paused, his desire winning out over his good sense. With a smile, Loki lifted her hand, kissing her knuckles tenderly. His eyes darted up, and he was pleased by the faint blush that stained her cheeks, the way her lashes hid her eyes when she looked down. He counted that as the evening being a success. Her murmured farewell sounded like a promise of more, so much more to come. 

That night, as he slept, the dream came back to him. But somehow, it was different. As he ran after the dark haired vision, she seemed different. No longer hazy and undefinable, her form was more visible when she... turned to face him. A warm light was shining in her eyes. Funny... he had never seen her eyes before. These weren't the amber lights he was used to imagining. These were dark deep pools, warmth glowing, emanating. The difference confused him, and more confusion came as she reached one hand up to stroke his cheek. 

Immediately he reached to hold her by her waist, to pull her petite form closer. Wait, petite? This was not his lady, the woman he had sought for so long. As his brain worked frantically to work this discrepancy out, the tiny woman in his arms drew closer, and he saw his dream self kissing her warmly, passionately. The confusion overwhelmed him, disturbing him enough that he woke, slightly aroused and baffled by the changes. 

While he sat in his royal throne room, legs sprawled out, Loki tried to understand, to interpret what the changes meant. He was closer than ever to realizing his dream, and yet now it was as if the dream was taunting him even more, dancing further away. Times like this he wished he had some sort of advisor, someone who he could truly discuss personal matters with. But, as always, he stood alone. 

A goblet of wine was handed to him, and he smiled and nodded mechanically at Ingrid before waving her away. How did she always have such a calm and sympathetic demeanor, he wondered. Trying to clear his mind, he shook his head just before a herald approached, announcing a general of Vanaheim. The two realms had maintained good relations since Asgard's armies had fought to save the people of Frigga's home realm. That alone was enough to grant them Loki's good graces, this being Frigga's home. He gestured for the general to enter, and waited as he bowed and made his introductions. "How may Asgard be of help to you today?" he asked benevolently. The general spoke of one of his captains, a fine soldier and leader, who wished to marry one of Asgard's maidens. Loki was confused as to why this was brought to him, but then the general waved his hand, signaling someone to enter. 

In walked a young man, handsome and muscular. His dark eyes beamed with pride and love, his head held high as he entered the throne room, his love holding his hand and following behind him. 

His love, the Lady Sif.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: hint of dub/con near the end. Not really severe or anything, but wanted to warn.

As Loki stared at the couple in shock, his world came crashing down around him. Now he understood why Sif had been so happy, so relaxed at dinner. She was in love, but not with him. Sif had found love again, and had come alive for this... this captain of an ally's army. Again he was cast aside for someone strong, a fighter, a warrior. His jaw tightening, he tried to blink away the hot tears that threatened his vision. Loki wanted to shout, scream, use his powers to burn the throne room around these idiots while he whisked Sif to his chambers, showing her who she should marry, who should have the privilege of holding her at night. 

He could have killed the captain. He could refuse to allow the union. It would be within his right as King to claim her for his own bride. No one would dare to deny him this. He could make her his bride, his queen. And no one would take his right, his happiness away from him. This was his desire. Everything he had ever wanted was right there in his grasp. All he had to do was say the word. 

But then his eyes focused on Sif, and only Sif. He saw that happiness, the light in her eyes, and it melted some of his anger. At that point he knew just how he loved her. He loved the Lady Sif so much that he would be willing to let her find the happiness she deserved. A smile that never warmed his eyes curved his lips, and he stood, walking toward the couple who waited his decision. "You are a lucky man," he murmured. "The Lady Sif is a fine... a fine woman and warrior. She will make a wonderful wife... for you." The captain bowed humbly, but Loki didn't take note of him. Only of how Sif's eyes lit up even further, her happy smile as she curtsied. Already it was easy to see she was anxious to get away, to have the time with her love. He almost couldn't begrudge her that, even though it wounded him. 

When the three left, he ground his teeth together, trying to restrain his screams of anger, of pain, of heartbreak. Turning to his herald, he announced that he would see no one else that day, and that he was retiring to his chambers. Quickly he stalked away from the throne, his cape flowing behind him. Hoping that the tears of anger and self-loathing would hold off till he was in the privacy of his rooms. 

As soon as the doors shut behind him, he waved his hand, casting a spell that would allow no one outside to hear. Then, with all his might, he screamed, roaring out his anger and hurt. A goblet flew across the room, crashing into a mirror before flying back to slam against a wall. A flurry of papers whirled while his hands tangled in his hair. He had only experienced this amount of varying emotions two times in his life: When he found out his lineage, and when he was told of Frigga's death. 

Minutes later, the room in shambles, he waved his hand again, soon righting it all. He couldn't bear to have everything a mess around him while his mind was also in chaos. A sudden thought came to him, and he looked at his reflection in the now whole mirror. The wicked smile that reflected at him was almost comforting. It was what he knew, it showed that the only person he could trust was himself. And Loki would never make the mistake of trusting someone else again. 

The rest of the day was a blur as he drank wine in his chambers, brooding over the past. The memories danced in his mind, watching Sif smile, fight. Even one night, in their younger years, when they had danced together at a festival. Oh, the way she had felt in his arms, it had been perfect. She was perfect. The tears fell again as he thought about her, and about how she had laughed at some of his teasing that night. Her laugh like music. Looking at his cup, he groaned as he realized the cup, and the bottle, were empty. The little bit of sunlight left told him that it was close to time for dinner to be served, and with that would come more wine. He could wait, he thought, then frowned. It seemed all he did was wait. Wait for what now? What did he have to wait for in life? 

The knock at the door shook him from his reverie, and he undid the spell and called for the knocker to enter. A tiny smile danced over his face unbidden when he saw it was that same servant girl, Ingrid, who was bringing his supper. "Hello, Miss Ingrid," he purred, stepping closer. Her face showed so many various emotions, he wondered what was running through her mind. But he somehow didn't want to try poking around in her mind. Would it even be worth the effort? 

Suddenly his memory flashed to his dream. The petite dark haired woman who took his embrace gladly, with those dark hot eyes. Ingrid could fit that description. His need to forget his heartache stirred desire and lust in his blood, and he growled as he gripped her wrist before she could leave after placing his tray on the table. "Leaving so soon?" he murmured, his voice low. As she bit her lip, he stifled a groan, thoughts of those full lips on him, those teeth nipping at his neck roughly. "Is there something else you require, my King?" she asked softly. 

The question opened the floodgates. Sif would never be his, he knew this now. But he had to make his desire dampen, sate it somehow. Tugging on her arm, he led her to the bed and ordered "Strip for me, now!" He watched the obvious way her hands shook as she did as ordered, the plain dress falling from her body in a soft pool of fabric, followed by her undergarments. Loki couldn't help moaning as he looked at her body, her delicious curves, those full breasts. He knew she would be soft, pliant in his arms. Just what he needed. 

He was almost nervous, not having seduced any maidservants in some time. Not since he was a young man trying to forget his crush. The irony struck him that he was doing the exact same thing to forget the exact same woman, just years later. Pointing, he told Ingrid "Onto the bed, on your back." Again, she whispered her acknowledgment and did as ordered. He waved his hand to remove his own clothing while climbing over her body. Slowly he let himself touch her. Oh yes, this was a woman to have his way with. As he hovered over her, her eyes opened to look at him. He again noticed the dark color, and the mixture of fear with a hint of arousal, but muted by resign. It broke him. 

Moving to the side, his clothes reappeared as he growled "Go!" She lay there for a moment, unsure if she had heard correctly. "I said go! Leave me!" he shouted, and then she complied, quickly dressing and hurrying out. He refused to look at her as she left, burying his face in his hands. 

He had not foreseen the change in himself. He wanted a woman who wished to be with him. Who didn't look at him with any fear, only longing, only love. Not someone who had to be ordered to his bed. It struck him that Ingrid had almost looked right there. Not just because she resembled Sif in some ways, but he truly wished to see her there. As soon as he thought that, however, his mind protested. He only ever loved, ever wanted one woman. And she was to marry another man. 

His food grew cold as he laid on his bed, arguing with himself all through the night.


	6. Chapter 6

The days passed in a blur. Loki tried to keep himself occupied by other matters, so as not to remember the loss of Lady Sif. Or the look in Ingrid's eyes as she hurried out of his chambers that horrible night. His stomach turns sickly every time he thinks about that. It had not escaped his notice that she has avoided being near him since then. He couldn't blame her, he had wished to never again think about that day, or the events of that night with her. But he wanted to make things right. Somehow he couldn't bear to think that she could hate him, despise him in any way. 

He went to work in one of the gardens. It gave him something to do to occupy his mind while most were focused on the wedding preparations of Lady Sif. He couldn't think about that, about her walking toward that captain, dressed all in white as they pledged their love forever. No, when he thought of that he grew far too angry and sick. Instead he focused on his plan. He had to do this just right. Arranging the flowers just so took full attention. Stepping back, he grinned. Yes, this looked just perfect for what he wanted. After creating a clone of himself, he sent it out to order a servant to send Ingrid to the garden and then seemingly leave. 

Watching from his hiding place, he smiled as she came in. Even in her plain garb, she was beautiful, no doubt. Loki watched as she moved closer to the center, what was obviously the intended spot for her. A cleared area with roses everywhere, including rose stems twisted so that the blooms were creating a likeness of her. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at it, fingering some of the roses delicately. At that, he stepped forward, murmuring her name to announce his presence. 

She whirled to face him, immediately curtsying to him. "My king," she answered, keeping her eyes lowered. His long fingers reached out, lifting her chin so she would look him in the eyes. "Ingrid, allow me to make sincere apologies for my behavior toward you. It was inappropriate to order you that way, and I truly am sorry." 

Her eyes widened, and he saw that she believed him. "My king, please, think no more of it," she answered shyly. "I am to do your bidding." At that, Loki almost growled in frustration and arousal at the thought, but he managed to restrain himself. "But," he countered, "I should not bid you to act in that manner. Again, I most humbly apologize." Her lips parted, and he had a flash of desire to kiss those lips. Again he banished the thought, waiting for her response. "My king, you were obviously upset, not yourself. I did not take offense. But I... accept, and thank you, sir." 

Loki sighed in relief, smiling at her warmly. Picking one rose with deep red petals, he placed it in her hair, the scarlet a lovely dash of color. Then he took a white rose and touched the petals gently with his finger tip. "You wear gold frequently," he commented, not even sure how he had taken notice of such a fact. "I would... consider it a kindness if you would wear this." He handed her the rose, now turned gold. "It will never fade." 

Her cheeks went bright pink as her hand reached out to take the flower. "Thank you," she whispered, smiling up at him. To his surprise, he felt his heart flip at the brightness in her face. He reached out, tracing one finger over her cheek. "No, thank you for accepting my attempts to make amends." Realizing that he was now simpering, he made a low bow and stepped back. "This can be yours," he suddenly told her. Waving his hand, a shimmer was cast over the clearing. "None of these will wilt. They will all stay fresh and lovely for you." Before she could respond, he turned and walked away, smiling to himself. 

For the next few weeks, every time he thought about the smile on her face, Loki couldn't help grinning. He had made amends for his atrocious behavior. And ever since that afternoon, he noticed she was serving the throne room and his personal chambers again. Each time she came near, a soft smile was playing on her lips, and she seemed more comfortable when their eyes met. Once, when he was dealing with a particularly irksome issue, she came in with his wine, and winked as she handed it to him, smiling with much mirth. He almost dropped the goblet, but chuckled in spite of his shock, which he assumed was what she had intended. And each time he saw her, she wore the golden rose. Sometimes in her hair, sometimes at her waist. But she never seemed to forget it. It warmed his heart somehow to see it. 

It helped to take his mind off of the impending nuptials of Sif. But that day came quickly. He knew as king he had to make an appearance, but it tore at his heart to think of having to stand there and watch his love be wed to another man. When he thought of that day, it made him more sick than the day Thor was to be crowned. But he would do this for her, even if it killed him. 

Not only did he attend, but somehow he found it inside of him to make speeches, to give them a gift as they started life together. In the back of his mind, Loki wondered if Sif had ever known his feelings. If she would have ever accepted his heart as hers. But as she looked at her husband with loving eyes, he accepted that she was no longer his dream. In fact, it occurred to him that the dream had changed. Or perhaps he was the one changing. He now saw the woman a little more clearly, enough to know that it was not Sif. Had it ever been? Had she truly been the one he was chasing all this time? 

Sighing, he drank the last of his wine and stood. Mechanically he smiled and waved as he left, not bothering to say farewell to the newlyweds. They only had eyes for each other now, and clearly were ready for their honeymoon. He snorted to himself, thinking that he hoped the man could keep up with Sif. As he wandered through the halls, he stopped as usual at the open windows, breathing in the night air. It had become his ritual before retiring to his chambers. He looked down at the gardens, smiling as he saw what he now referred to as Ingrid's garden. Occasionally as he paused here, he would see her standing in the sunlight, admiring the roses. He was glad she still liked the gift. It had felt a little maudlin, but somehow right. 

He opened the doors to his room, as usual locking and casting a spell over the doors. Then he stopped. Something was off here. What was it? His eyes darted about the room as he steeled himself for an attack. Using the tips of his fingers, he sent fire to quickly light candles near his bed and the window, to illuminate and show the anomaly. What he saw shook him. 

There, lying on his bed, with only his green cape covering her body, was Ingrid, fast asleep and completely nude.


	7. Chapter 7

Staring at the bed, Loki couldn't help smiling to himself. Ingrid's body barely covered by his cape was a lovely sight, there was no denying that. Her body, luscious and desirable, called to him. But what had brought her here, tonight of all nights? Stepping closer, he would have called to her, but she stirred, her eyes fluttering open. To him, she looked absolutely adorable, so sweet and innocent. Yet the womanly curves and secret glances he had witnessed let him know she was no innocent in his bed that night. 

When she saw him standing there, she did not jump and gasp, as he had expected. Instead she sat up, keeping the cape covering enough of her body that it served as a delightful tease to his gaze. "My king," she murmured, barely lowering her eyes. "What has brought you here, Ingrid?" he asked kindly. "You, my King," she answered quickly, with no hesitation. She was bold, and he found that in her favor. He moved to stand at the foot of the bed, steadily watching her. "Me, Ingrid? You were waiting here, attired thusly, for me? And why?" 

She never faltered, looking up at him as a tiny smile curved her lips upward. "I've come to offer myself to you, your highness." The thought didn't shock him, but that she was so bold and upfront about the idea did. Oh he liked her, liked her very much indeed. "And you thought this would be acceptable to me?" he replied, still kindly. He couldn't deny that he did still desire her. And seeing her like this here in his bed was stirring even more in him. Desire and... and... he bit his lip as the word 'affection' came to his mind unbidden. 

"I did," she answered. "I know... that you are lonely at times. And..." Trailing off, she at last seemed shy about speaking her mind. Gingerly Loki sat on the edge of the bed, smiling softly at her. "Go on, don't stop now," he urged. She looked away, then toward him again and whispered "The Lady Sif's wedding today... I know... I've seen the way you look at her. The... the love you have for her. I thought that perhaps tonight you would wish for... company." 

His shock at her plain words was plain to see. Eyes widening, he looked away, jaw clenched with frustration and sadness. Did everyone see this so plainly? He must have muttered those words aloud, for Ingrid reached a soft hand out to rest on his arm. "I know of no one else who has seen this," she murmured. "And I have not spoken about this matter to anyone. It is your business, your private affairs, my king. I only wished to be of service to you, sir." Slowly exhaling, he shook his head. "You are too generous to me, Ingrid," he told her. "Especially... considering how I treated you in the past." 

"All that has been forgiven, your highness," she answered quickly. He growled and jumped up, starting to pace around the room. "You do not know what you are saying, Ingrid. I almost forced you into my bed once. And now you come willingly, so sweetly to me? Saying you are aware of my love for another, and yet you'd give yourself to me?" He stood at his windows, hoping to will away the tears suddenly forming in his eyes. For a long moment he wouldn't look at her, wanted to try and hold himself steady. But he was quickly losing the battle, and he found himself not caring if she saw his weakness. 

He turned, wondering if she had donned her clothing and ran away. Instead he saw her sitting there still, her face showing only tenderness and empathy. It nearly broke him. Stepping toward the bed, he waved his hand, changing his attire to light sleeping pants as he sat near her. His hand came up slowly, caressing her cheek. He saw in her eyes the same emotion, no change in her. Wait... there was... arousal. She desired him as well. This was not done out of duty, servitude. Ingrid truly wished this to happen. Pulling her into his arms, he whispered "Please, just lay with me. Stay with me. Don't leave me tonight, Ingrid." He moved their bodies under the blankets, nuzzling her. "I do not wish to use your body for anything other than this sort of intimacy," Loki purred, playing with her hair gently. "Is this agreeable to you, Ingrid?" He knew that if she did not agree, he would let her go that very instant. 

Even though she was taken obviously by surprise, she nodded in reply. This brought a sigh to his lips, and he nuzzled her gently. "Thank you, my lady, for this." Ingrid turned, her hand cupping his cheek. "It is my pleasure, my king," she answered, looking up at him from under her lashes. Those long dark fringes made her look innocent and seductive all at once. His finger moved over her cheek as he pleaded "Tonight, call me by name, Ingrid. Say my name." As her cheeks turned a rosy pink, she whispered "Loki, it is my pleasure." He shuddered at the sound of her voice, almost like he could feel her caress. "Yes, again. Say my name again." At this, Ingrid smiled and purred "Loki, Loki." 

It almost made him change his mind, give in to the desire that flared deep inside. But the simple comfort of her soft warm body was more than enough for him at this moment. He smiled, a true genuine smile to her. He realized that she had been the only cause of any real smiles for the whole day, the last several weeks. Ingrid had brought true warmth to him, true happiness. "Tell me how you came to be so sweet," he murmured, feeling almost foolish as he spoke. She blushed delicately again, almost hiding her face in his neck. "Do not hide yourself," he chided. "I wish to look at you." Her actions were distracting him, as she had hoped to do. But she was truly bringing mirth to him, easing his pain. They talked of light things, nothing too deep or personal. As the night went on, she slowly drifted off to sleep, cuddling closer to him with a sigh, gentle as the breeze blowing over them. 

He watched her for some time, working to memorize her features. If the dream came again tonight, he wondered if it would show him what he had been thinking for some time. That Ingrid was the woman, had been the woman for him all along. That her form was what haunted him now, and that this night, holding her in his arms would unlock more happiness. 

As he wished for, the dream came. And the woman he held was there with him. No longer was he chasing her, always just out of reach. Now she sat across from him as they ate a meal. She called to him from the bed they shared. She sat next to him in the throne room. She stood on their balcony, smiling as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, his hands curving over her rounded stomach. He saw them together, living a happy life. When he woke the next morning, and saw that she was still there in his arms, he smiled, pulling her closer to his body. She stirred, pressing her body closer and whispering "Loki, Loki." He was proud that, even in her sleep, she called for him. Perhaps there was something there that he hadn't expected. His body stirred, reacting to this lovely woman calling to him as their bodies tangled together. He watched her as her eyes opened slowly, and she smiled at him. "Good morning," he whispered. "Good morning, Loki," she answered. He was so pleased that she called him by his name that he couldn't resist the urge any longer. Gently he lowered himself, pressing a slow kiss to her lips.


	8. Chapter 8

Ingrid's lips were soft and warm against his, inviting Loki to take his fill. Slowly he brought his hand to her cheek, keeping her close. As their lips parted, he was pleased by the smile on her face. Plainly she was welcoming his advances, but to what end? "I want you," he murmured, brushing back her dark hair, "but only if you are willing as well, Ingrid." Her eyes warmed as she nodded, but then hesitated. "I'm not... I'm not her," she whispered hesitantly. Instead of being irritated by this, he was pleased. She wanted him to truly want her, not just a warm body to replace Sif. 

"I know you aren't," Loki replied kindly. "I want you, Ingrid. I have for some time, darling." With that she kissed him passionately, the sheet falling from her body as she threw her arms around him. Her warm skin against his felt divine, her curves under his hands tantalizing. "I want you," he repeated in her ear, "Ingrid, my lady Ingrid." She sighed, nuzzling his neck in a tender sweet way that moved him, touched him deeply. "I want you as well, Loki." Hearing this, he groaned, pulling her closer against him. She had shredded the last bit of hesitancy he was feeling. She actually wanted to be with him. Not out of some duty, but from desire. As they kissed, he let his fingers trail over her body, pausing at her heated wet core. To feel her desire so evident made him groan softly. 

"You do want this, don't you pet?" he purred. "You are so wet, so ready for me." Ingrid made the most delightful whimpers as he touched her, cheeks flushed as she gasped for air. Slowly he slipped two fingers inside her, groaning at the way her tightness felt. She would feel amazing when he was inside her, but he wanted to bring her pleasure first, to ensure they would find pleasure together. With deliberate motions, he twisted and plunged his fingers, reveling in the way she whined his name, biting her lip as she smiled. He felt her trembling, signaling her imminent release. "That's it, darling, cum for me," he commanded. Crying out, Ingrid arched up, her orgasm causing his fingers to be coated with her essence. It was a beautiful sight, one he was keen to recreate regularly. 

Groaning, Loki stripped away his pants, wiping his fingers along his length. He was aroused almost to the point of pain now, and needed to fill her, needed to feel her around him. Before he could position himself, she sat up, spreading her legs willingly, smiling at him as she pulled him close, holding him lovingly. Somehow she knew what he needed. Not just release, but the comfort of true affection from someone. He smiled, caressing her cheek as he kissed her tenderly. "You are wonderful, Ingrid," he hummed softly. As she nuzzled his palm, she replied "Loki, I... want you to make love to me." He could tell that something else had been on the tip of her tongue, but she had changed it at the last minute. He allowed her that for the time being. Later he would find out what she had wanted to say, but for now, he wanted to focus on their shared pleasure. 

He wrapped her legs around his hips as he kissed her once more. "Will you tell me what you like, my darling?" he pleaded. "I want to fill your desires perfectly, Ingrid." She nodded with a soft smile, returning his kiss. "And I want to fill yours, Loki. I want you to have your pleasure," she whispered. "Have your way with me." His groan echoed around them as he slowly entered her, her moan soon joining his. "Oh you are perfect," Loki sighed. "You are perfect Ingrid." As he slowly plunged deeper into her, she began kissing his neck, whispering his name. He had never thought he would have this sort of pleasure, this happiness. Her eyes went wide as her fingers dug deeper into his arms. "Loki I... I... oh please," she whimpered. His grin was almost feral as he nodded. "You want to cum again for me, don't you darling?" he asked. "You want to find your pleasure?" Screaming out, she begged "Please, yes I need to... want to cum!" He brought one hand down to begin rubbing her swollen clit, growling in her ear "Cum for me, pet. Cum for me now." 

Her eyes seemed to glaze over with lust as she found release, screaming his name. Her voice calling to him was music to his ears. "Yes, yes love that's it," he encouraged. "You feel so good around me. I never want you to leave me." Those words slipped out before he realized it, but Loki immediately knew he meant it. As her eyes cleared, looking directly at him, he could see the hesitancy there. He had to let her know his heart. "Stay in my arms, Ingrid. Don't ever leave me," he whispered. Her smile grew just before she clawed at his arms. "Loki! Yes!" she screamed. Feeling her tighten around him, he lost control, thrusting harder into her as he shouted her name, the heat of release finally ripping through him. As he drifted down from his high, he pressed his lips to hers lovingly. 

Yes, it was love he felt as they trembled in each others arms. He loved her, and he had for some time. Stroking her cheek tenderly, he smiled as she looked up at him. He could see that she wasn't sure if he was being honest, if he truly meant what he had blurted out in the heat of passion. "Ingrid," he whispered, "I want you to stay with me. I want you to... be mine. Be by my side." Her hesitant expression turned to confusion, and a bit of reluctance as she asked "You want me... you wish for me to be your consort?" Loki realized that she thought he only meant for her to be a release of sorts. To be his bedmate, and only that. 

"More than that," he whispered honestly. "Ingrid, I love you. I want you to be my queen. My wife."


	9. Chapter 9

The shock was plain in Ingrid's face as he spoke those words. Loki couldn't blame her for not believing him, not with his reputation. Stroking her cheek gently, he smiled, nodding slowly. "I wish for you to marry me, Ingrid," he murmured. "I've cared about you for some time now. I know my behavior hasn't been worthy of you-" 

At that she stopped him, her work worn fingers on his lips. "Please, don't speak of it," she whispered. "I've told you, you are forgiven. Completely forgiven, Your Highness." The fact that she had called him by that title made him frown a bit. But her next words explained the change. "But I'm just a servant, only a servant. You are... you are the king of Asgard. It's not... I'm not who you deserve, my love." 

He smiled, the tender pet name giving her feelings away. "You have it wrong, Ingrid my darling, my love. I don't deserve you, true, because you are better than me, far better than I deserve. But you have bewitched me, dearest. I ache for you." This was a vulnerability that he had been afraid to show to anyone. "I love you, Ingrid. Only you. I'm not asking you to replace anyone, to fill in. I'm asking if you could love me and be my wife." His heart was pounding when he finished speaking, waiting for her response. 

After a moment, Ingrid smiled gently, stroking his cheek. "Loki, I can love you. I already do love you. I never thought you'd wish me to be anything but a way to satisfy your needs." With shining eyes, she kissed him. "If you truly want this, if you truly want me, I will be your wife, Loki. I will gladly marry you." Cuddling against his chest, she repeated "I will marry you." 

His face brightened as he held her close. "Oh my little rose, I love you," he whispered, stroking her dark hair. "I love you so much. You've made my life so much better. You kind, sweet, beautiful little thing. I don't deserve you, but I will work every day to try and be found worthy." He kept kissing her, not quite believing the fact that she had truly agreed to be his. At last, his dream was coming true. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

It was the end of a long day, but a rather good one. As Loki left his throne room, he smiled warmly at the people he passed in the hallways. His mind was occupied, not with the affairs of state he had been handling all day, but on what awaited him in his chambers. As always, though, he couldn't resist pausing a moment, looking down at the garden he had given Ingrid months before. His smile turned to a frown as he saw her wandering among the rosebushes. Quickly he spun on his heel, heading to the doors that led out to the garden. 

When he set foot on the pathways, he stopped for a moment, watching her. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face, cascading down her back. As always, the golden rose was behind her ear, shining brightly in the fading sunlight. Loki's heart pounded at the sight. He could never get over the fact that she had chosen him. That he had the love of this beauty. 

She turned, her face brightening when she saw him. "Loki, my love," she sighed, slowly moving to hug him. When the embrace ended, he leaned down, kissing her tenderly while caressing her stomach. "Ingrid, darling, what are you doing out here? You should be resting!" he chastised. Used to his concern, she shook her head and chuckled. "I needed the fresh air. And you're the only one who wants me locked away in our rooms all day. You'd have me stuck in bed if you had your way!" 

He chuckled softly, teasing "Only if I was able to stay there in bed with you as well." A soft blush painted her cheeks as she shook her head, too amused to scold him. "The fresh air and walking is good for me, the midwives all said so," she told him. "I wanted to see my roses. Oh! Here, I have news!" Pulling out a letter from her pocket, she held it up. "It's from the Lady Sif," she explained. Somehow after the marriage, Ingrid and Sif had become friends of a sort. They corresponded semi-regularly, and it was almost amusing to Loki that the two women, the one he thought he had loved and the one who taught him what love truly was, had this relationship. 

"What news?" he asked, guiding her to a bench and pulling her onto his lap. "She's with child too," Ingrid answered hesitantly. "She just confirmed this." Instead of pain, the news brought joy. He had given up the idea of Sif long ago, and all he could feel was pleasure at her happiness. "That's good news indeed!" Loki replied. "We shall have to send a gift, of course." As his hand moved over her stomach, he felt their child moving, a tiny foot pressing against his hand. "Yes, my little one, Papa still loves you best," he crooned, nuzzling the spot. Ingrid's hands moved in his hair and she smiled. "The baby has been very active. I no longer have to wonder, I know the movements too well," she joked. Pulling her close, he kissed her softly, taking them to their chambers with a flash. 

He laid on the bed, still holding her close. "My beautiful loves, how happy I am." Nuzzling her neck, he waved his hand, their clothing disappearing. "You become more beautiful every day, dearest," he purred, stroking her body and smiling at the way she responded to his touch. "May I, love?" he pleaded. After all this time, he still tread carefully, as if still afraid of losing her. Panting, she nodded, kissing him passionately. "Yes, Loki my love, please, please." 

He stroked her wet slit gently before pulling her hips to his, entering her slowly. Their mingled moans echoed in the air. The bits of sunlight left made Ingrid's body seem to glow, her curves accentuated by the soft light. Slowly she began rolling her hips, egged on by his groans. "That's it, Ingrid, my love," he whispered. "Oh yes, darling." Crying out, her body responded to his motions, and she came and bounced harder. Loki gripped her waist, stabilizing her as he thrust up. "So close, so good," he gasped. He still couldn't believe he could make love to this goddess, the woman of his dreams. Seeing her face contort with pleasure again, he lost control. He plunged deeper, holding her steady as he came. 

Ingrid let her head fall to his shoulder as they both fought for breath to return. "I love you," she moaned, "I love you Loki." Nuzzling her neck, he pressed soft kisses there as he murmured gently. He almost didn't want to sleep now. Now life was better than his old dreams. It was a new dream, one he couldn't get enough of. But even when he dreamed, he dreamed of her, of their life together. Lovely visions of this woman, their coming child. Yes, better than anything he saw in his dreams.


End file.
